


Wild Things

by Liala



Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Avvar, Angst, Avvar AU, Avvar Cullen, Clans, Demons, F/M, Family, Inquisitor and Herald are different, Non Inquisitor Lavellan, Rough Sex, Smut, my first au, some violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-02
Updated: 2017-08-05
Packaged: 2018-04-18 16:23:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4712558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liala/pseuds/Liala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thane Cullen ar Leath has a hold of family to protect, but when the sky is torn asunder leading him on a path far away from the forests he knows.  Liawen Lavellan, torn from her hunting grounds and shaped into the Herald of Andraste, lost in a sea of Shem, finds a kindred spirit in the Barbarian leader, but with Thedas falling apart can the wild things put it back together?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

First, it was a hole in the sky, gnarled and warped as if the Lady herself had raked her nails across it. Then the screams followed, both of spirit creatures and of men, as the world flooded with the lost and the unguided, losing their minds and sullying the cold ground with blood. The Augur had tried to contact their spirit guides, to watch for the Lady’s guidance, but none had come. Had they disappointed their gods and been abandoned?

Thane Cullen ar Leath watched and waited. What for? He was not entirely sure. A sign, a sliver of hope that they are not forsaken, despite his fear for his clan growing like a weed in his heart. Staring into the centre of the hold’s fire he stretched, leather armour clinging to his body like a second skin, for he had not removed it in days, the danger ever present. As Thane of the Hold, his actions governed the lives of his family and people. Demons were rampant in the woods and despite their fortifications they were being attacked almost every day. Clan Leath had already moved further north than intended placing them at further risk from rivals but what choice did he have? The path behind was soiled with blood and corpses.

Tomorrow he would once again issue the order to move camp.  Nothing is permanent in the Frostbacks, not even them.  If the Gods deemed it was their time, who was he to argue? The familiar screech of terrors in the night roused him from his thoughts, every able bodied Avvar ready to protect the hearth.  By Haakon he swore he they would survive this night.   _Give me a second wind, let us survive this night._

~  
Dawn broke slowly over the forest, the morning mist and dew coating the fallen, four more dead.  Branson and Mia were dressing their wounds as Rosalie made sure everyone was fed.  Their food stocks were running low, but with death lurking in the woods he was reluctant to spare anyone for a hunt.  
“Branson.” He kept his voice, low and calm despite his own reservations.  “Once we have tended to the wounded spread the word that we are moving camp.”

“So soon Brother?” his younger sibling offering him a poultice for the gash on his forearm.

“Aye, I doubt we will have much respite from the demons.”

“Further north?  Isn’t it a risk?”

“Better to meet Avvar than more of what we have faced.  We can appease the Gods and hopefully find aid.  We cannot be alone in their displeasure.”

“As you Command.” Branson returned face drawn and set in a grimace.

The poultice began to work its numbing effect, the small pouch stopping the bleeding.  Mia gave his a questioning look, ever the eldest sibling.  He shook his head, unwilling to go into detail, and thankfully she did not pursue him.  Asking Rosalie for the whetstone he sharpened his blade in earnest.  

~

“Warriors to the fore!  Rosalie lead the others around, Branson guard them!” he managed to bellow orders as his siblings scrambled to respond.  The bulk of his warriors fighting long legged monsters from the green tear in the air.  “Hold them till we can get the caravans through, we will not survive without it!”

The emerald tear engulfed the road spewing more of the creatures into the fray.  His sword arm was weakening, the wound reopened, his armour torn, fresh wounds from claws had cleaved apart flesh with ease.  With a roar he tore a belt from a fallen comrade binding his blade to his wrist, blood making the hilt of his sword slippery.  Discarding his shield he scavenged a second blade.  If he was to die, he would take as many of the hoard as possible.

Blades and arrow flew across the small field of battle, the pained cries of his friends dulling into one continuous scream ringing in his ears, soon replaced by a hollow voice.  

_Fear not barbarian, your sisters will be next, their blood painting my body a beautiful colour as I gnaw on your brother’s bones._

For a moment his heart stopped, his senses slowly catching up with his mind.  The claws penetrating his chest dripped in crimson, his own.

_I will devour them before the Lady, and your gods will die.  You have failed._

He stared into the creature’s hollowed eyes, the black pits of unyielding emptiness gnawing at his soul.  Would the Lady find him?

A high pitched whistle whipped past his ears, the tendrils of pain easing as the beast recoiled shrieking, its cause, a large arrow protruding from its collar bone.  Thick blood like tar oozed from the wound as Cullen slashed with his bound blade, carving a thin line in his enemy enough to push him away from the beast.  Strength failing he tried to will his limbs to comply, to get away from the demon as it regained itself.  To his horror the beast stalked towards him, and he knew it was his time.

“MA HALAM!” a feminine roar tearing though his dying mind.  “You will not have him.” The whistle of an arrow and the hooves on stone broke his view preventing the demon’s approach.

“My…Lady…” The words became harder to say as he reached to the sky.  He prayed that he had done enough to atone.


	2. Chapter 2

Cullen. Voices were the first thing he heard in the darkness. The first thing to anchor him to reality. That proved he was not with the Lady any longer, despite the dreams.

"...lowlanders...trust...how?"

"Alive Bran..."Broken words and arguments drifted through his dreams, pulling him closer to consciousness.

"It's not what you think Rosalie we ask for him to be given to us, but they refuse. She refuses."

"Who refuses?" His voice weak, the words a whisper he hadn't realise he had spoken. Rosalie yelped, the weight to his right lumping in fright.

"Cullen? Brother?" With effort he fought the lethargy that tugged at his mind, a sliver of light blinding him as Rosalie pulled at his eyelid. "By the lady Ro, that hurts." All of him hurt. Rosalie's delighted squeals and Branson's smile greeted him as Mia hugged his other side.

"How do you feel?"

"Alive, but sore." He chuckled seeing Mia roll her eyes at his generic answer. "But who refuses to do what?"

"Now is not the time brother, you are just back from the dead..."

"If it is enough to distress you then it is of importance."

"The Inquisition refuses to give you back to our care. The stubborn she-elf in particular. In fact they are keeping us here at their base."

"But they have fed and cared for the sick, if it wasn't for the bald one he'd be dead."

"Mia, Brandon enough arguing, who and what is the Inquisition and why are they refusing to do something."

"Well not the whole organisation. Mainly the stubborn she-elf"

"Who?" His voice becoming a growl, Branson's petulance becoming an irritant.

"Probably me." Came a smooth voice from the doorway. "Andaran atish'an Thane Cullen, welcome back to the living." Branson stepped aside revealing a petite woman carrying a tray of food. She was a similar size to Rosalie and was overshadowed by Branson, no doubt she would barely reach his shoulder. Her body was lithe but her clothes betrayed the muscle he recognised as an archers, but by the Lady she was beautiful. Her heart shaped face held an intricate tattoo like a tree that covered her forehead cheeks and chin, almond eyes bore into his as her raven hair was bound back in a braid, her elegant ears lined with gold. She looked positively wild.

"It is a good thing you did saving us. I thank you even if they have not be amiable guests."

"It is no bother, I worried merely for your care." She smiled genuinely.

"Or to keep us trapped for your will." Muttered Branson under his breath, but the elf heard her eyes darting to the younger man, her scowl sharp than his dagger.

"As I informed your brother, I kept you here to heal because your people are tired from battle and they must recover, my healers are healthy. It was to help your hold. Besides he shouldn't be moved until he was awake according to Solas, now he is awake, you can leave when he feels ready. I just ask you listen to what I have to say." "

Is this true Branson, she kept me here to heal, to not burden the clan?"

"She also sent supplies and medicine to the camp." Whispered Rosalie. "She has shown care to our people and you are rude to her bringing us shame. Apologise little brother."

"But it is suspicious..." Cullen merely glared, his order should not have to be repeated twice. "all right, I'm sorry."

"Thank you." Smiled the elf more curteous than his kin. "I will not take more of your time thane. I brought food for all, rest up and I will arrange a way to your people for when you are ready." She handed the tray to Mia before padding silently out into the cool air.

True to her word within hours she had him loaded on a flat wagon, rolling gently to the Avvar encampment, her thinner clothes replaced by simple armour of leather and linen wraps. The material clung to her bod like a second skin and she moved with equal comfort. Walking alongside the procession she kept a comfortable pace, the bow on her back suggesting a greater vigilance than her light armour.

"I fear I do not know your name low lander." He growled from beneath the furs Mia had insisted he stay under. "Liawen Lavellan."

"Does it have meaning for your people?"

"No but my father would often nickname me Adahl, it means tree. My father said that even as a babe I looked stubborn. He thought to name me as something that is strong, timeless and Adahl can be the me I keep for myself. I am pleased to say that I live up to both." She laughed. "As for you Thane Cullen ar Leath. I fear I do not know your honor title. Rosalie tells me that it was well earned."

"Tide Breaker. Swarms of enemies charged against us, I alone stood and created a choke point, the tide of their victory broke against my sword and shield."

"Then I hope never to face you in combat, for fear my bow would break."

He was surprised by the ease in which he found Liawen palatable, few of the low landers showed genuine courtesy as she, yet he did not feel the patronising tone that usually accompanied such enquiries. The trail was bumpy despite their best efforts, the cart would jolt and pain would shoot through his ribs reminding him of his injuries. The prison Branson described was nothing like he expected. The camp was circular, focused around a central fire to illuminate the social areas. Huts had been hastily erected for the supplies but the majority were still under canvas. As the procession drew closer shouts drifted through the camp as the people rushed out to meet them. He thanked the lady for how many survived and that they were in good shape.

"Good to see you still stand, thought you were becoming lazy like these lowlanders!" Cackled Rylen, his second the ever optimistic man had been a steadfast friend over the years.

"Looking at your mug again could put anyone to sleep" he smirked slapping his friend on the back. The wagon eased to a stop outside one of the temporary shacks, Branson gingerly helping him to his feet. Mia steadied him leading him into the inner room as others brought in the furs. He noticed Liawen did not enter giving instructions to the driver and escorts indicating the towards the town. "Ask her to join us." He muttered to Mia. " I would like to thank her."

"Aye brother." Mia darted back to the mysterious elf, watching her converse with his equally formidable sister. He flinched as her eyes met hiss in the darkness, the green glow of her eyes unsettling in the growing darkness. In a few strides she         re-entered the tent, eyes blinded in the firelight.

"I am sorry thane as much as I would be honoured to join you this evening I am afraid I have a long night hunt ahead of me." "Oh? Is there a particular prey you seek?"

"There have been reports of a great bear in the nearby woods, apparently, and I quote "a beast even demons would fear." It's fur apparently reddy brown, which is unusual. I am skeptical though such a beast tends to live deeper in the mountains and it is a rare colouring. Still if the Shem are afraid I must go."

"Reddy brown fur? Could it be Ymir?" Hissed Rosalie.

"Ymir?" Queried Liawen.

"Our hold beast. Our link to the gods, he disappeared when we were first attacked by demons."

"Was he let loose from his pen?"

"Hold beasts are not chained like other creatures, they have free reign of the hold. He left during the attack." Added Cullen.

"I see, I must admit I know little of Shem beliefs outside of their chantry. Still, he is important to you?"

"Aye, if it is him, I would ask he not be harmed, he is an important member of the clan."

Liawen mulled for a few moments deep in thought, pacing back and forth.

"You cannot be intend to kill him." Hissed Branson hand dropping to his blade. Liawen's eyes registering the aggression and tone in his voice.

"Stay your blade Branson, there is only so much I can take of your misplaced anger. I have no allegiance to the Shem and for your brothers sake I will not beat you into a bloody mess." The barely contained anger evident in her voice, fire in her eyes. "I have little patience. Thane, my apologies." She bowed. "I must still pursue Ymir, if that is who roams the wilds. I will not slay him however, if I can I will lead him to safety or away from Haven. If I do not act they will send soldiers and I doubt they will acknowledge your beliefs, my people can vouch for that." She sighed. "That is the best I can do."

"Thank you for your consideration, especially after my clans actions." Groaned Cullen gripping his sides. "Your actions speak highly of you."

"Thank you." She smiled, and by the lady she was beautiful. "Do not fear Thane, your people will be protected as long as I breathe. Your people remind me of my own. I cannot protect my family, but perhaps..." She smiled sadly drawing a hood over her head. "Dareth Shiral, may the dread wolf never find your scent." She bowed before leaving the tent, into the night.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had this half finished for a while and finally had inspiration to take it forward. It's a bit rough around the edges like me and I hope it formats as I post this on holiday.
> 
> Hopefully this will be a bit more active again.

Rest was difficult, the allure of dreams and weariness tugged at his mind, his body craving the respite but duty keeping him awake.  He was the Tidebreaker, yet it was his own mind he feared.  He feared facing the darkness of sleep again, afraid its claws would not release him.  He focused on the small details of the cabin as his siblings snores filled the room.  Branson being the loudest.  Laughter rumbled awkwardly against his ribs as he tried to suppress it.  They were just relieved he had survived.  Gingerly he climbed from the pallet mattress they had built for him and shuffled towards the door.  Dawn would be due soon and the early morning light brought hope and renewal from the Lady of the Skies.

 

His thoughts drifted in the silence, the chill keeping him awake as it tugged at exposed skin that escaped the blanket.  His breath misted in the cold air as his breathing relaxed.  His mind focused on one small detail, the stubborn elf.  The stubborn beautiful elf.   He had bedded women before, even been Married once for a year, but he was glad it had only been one knot he could untie.  In truth he believe Mia had a hand in making the knots too tight, but it was something he had not dwelled upon after, choosing casual releases over a wife or relationship.   

 

_ Liawen _ .  Even her name rolled off his tongue like warm honey. She was not afraid of him, of anyone it seemed, would she cower in the bedroom or fight?  The thought of finding out pleasant.  Perhaps she would be amicable to a coupling, with the world falling apart, casual sex would probably be not high on her list of priorities.

 

Twigs snapped just outside the camp.  He could see the tower guard peer towards the noise.  His shoulders tensed, muscle memory preparing him for war the sharp pang in his ribs reminding him he was vulnerable.  

"Branson get out here, something's concerned Baldur." He kept his eyes on the elder archer as he drew his crossbow in defence.  A sleep riddled Branson stumbled from the hut followed by Mia with Bransons sword, the younger man tugging on his boots.  "See he has the bow ready.  Go see."

"Aye," the young man stumbled towards the tower closing the distance narrowly avoiding guy lines.

"And pray tell what are you doing out here brother?" Queried Mia.  "You should be in bed."

"I can't sleep sister.  Just not yet.  It's too soon."   _ I'm afraid I'll  not come back _ .  He left unsaid but Mia nodded, observing his tension.

 

Shouts from the other side of the camp broke the calm of the pre morning light as dialogue swept back and further drawing some heads out of tents, Cullen merely waved them back to their slumber, there was no need to wake the whole camp.  Branson sprinted over bright eyed and awake.

"Mia get as much elfroot as you can and have your healing herbs on hand.  I need Rylen." He turned to the camp shouting at the tent next door.  "OI RYLEN GET YOUR ASS OUT OF BED NOW." He roared, as Cullen's second stuck his head out of the tent cursing, his wife's arm urging him back.

"What the hell is going on?" Asked an anxious Mia stacking jars into his arms which he merely dropped by the hut.  "Bran?"

"The elf, Liawen. She's returned...with Ymir."

"What?" Rylen stood disbelieving shrugging his doublet on.

"I didn't Believe it either but I saw it, she's bringing him around.  She may need you to return to the camp for aid."

"So I'm a runner."

"For Ymir yes."

Cullen sat in silence eyes focused on the main gate as the others argued around him.  His breath held as he awaited the first view of her.

 

She was breathtaking.

 

Walking with a hunch her hair was matted, her skin darkened by soot and blood, her eyes becoming bolder almost animalistic as she focused on encouraging something behind her.  He noticed she leant primarily on her left side, perhaps her right was injured?  Her clothing was certainly torn and gashed.  What had she fought out there?

 

He stood at the first sight of Ymir, silencing the others at once.  

"Rylen,"

"Got it." The Second anticipating his order to aid her.  Running to her side as the bear walked heavily into the camp his movements slow and lumbering preferring his lefts side to his right arrows protruding from his back.  Rylen exchanged fast words before returning to the thane.  "She's bringing him here and wants the hut to work in, can you clear it Mia.  Branson go wake the camp, we're going to need everyone.  I need to go to Haven."

 

Liawen approached slowly speaking a tongue he was not familiar in always addressing Ymir.  She bent at the waist looking directly at the great bear, as she moved past him he noticed blood on her tunic was fresh, she was definitely wounded.  Following on tentative steps Liawen cupped the jaw of Ymir leading him to rest on the floor in the gap Mia had cleared her hands guiding, words assuring as he perched on a chair.

"Thane." She nodded acknowledging him as stroked the bear whispering warmly.  "I found your bear." She chuckled, falling forward herself.  He stood to aid her, but she waved him away. "Has Rylen gone to Haven yet?"

"No."

"Can you call him I need him to get things."

"Why?" He surveyed the damage Ymir had taken, there was little chance he could survive, cut and pierced by wounds he looked more like a quillback than a bear."

"I can save him." She rubbed her face with her sleeve doing little more than to move the dirt around.  He was inclined to believe her.

"Rylen!" He dragged the man inside.  "Listen to her instructions carefully.  Rosalie, you too."

 

Liawen recited some herbs, some her knew based on her description and some he did not know all apparently kept in her hut.  Plus they were to ask Solas to return with them he would work on her wounds.  She pulled her pack from her back setting it beside Ymir who moaned.  Withdrawing daggers and a bobbin and needle he realised her plan.

"Do you have a bucket?  Three if possible and bowls.  And a pestle and fish, fresh as you can."  The first child to hut, Cullen gave the order and requests and slowly the clan brought items.  Dumping Mia's supply of elfroot she took a wedge in hand chewing it before lifting Ymirs head to her lap.

"Ir abelas." She apologised opening his jaw, shoving the mangled plant into his open maw elbow deep, massaging his throat urging him to swallow, his body convulsing against the sour taste.  Grabbing other herbs she did the same one at a time.

"That will keep him for now."  Pointing to some of the buckets, she asked heated water in some, cold water in others and the rest to be on hand.  "I need to work quickly.  Do you have water here?" She asked. 

"Only the cold outside." Grabbing a bucket she charged outside returning with it full, placing it by the fire.  "Can you make sure no one enters?  I need to wash, don't want dirt in the wound?"

"Aye." He nodded as she cast her shirt aside, the gashes and wounds on her body trickling a steady flow of blood, he stared but she waved him off.  "Are you not afraid of undressing before an unknown man?"

"If there was time yes, but as there isn't therefore why bother?  Unless it disturbs you, I will be quick." Uncertainty flickered behind her confidence, he smiled warmly.

"I feared more for you, a beautiful woman almost naked in my hut is an offer hard to refuse."  He grinned, flirting shamelessly as she ran the cold water over her skin grabbing a rag from her bag to scrub at the dirt.  

 

Without the leather her physique was just as excellent, he could feel himself hardening the swell of her breasts on display, nipples pert from the cold water.  He leapt up when she hissed with her side, she encouraged him to sit, but he wrapped his hands around her waist taking the cloth relishing the softness of her skin.  Gently he cleaned her side and back fresh blood mingling with the water. She refused to scream but a moan escaped as he brushed her ear.  Clearly it was sensitive.  Her finished by wiping her face, her eyes capturing his with a smile.

 

"Cullen as much as I would like to investigate more under your blanket.  I need to dress."

He laughed at her refreshingly honest answer.  "I will hold you to that Liawen."

She dressed in spare linen clothing from her pack and returned to Ymir.  Assessing the damage she was lost in thought.

"Should you not be resting?"

"Shouldn't you?" he indicated her sigh.

"Noted.  Grab a bucket." She grabbed the thread and knife.  Approaching the wounds on Ymir's back she chose an arrow expanding the entry wound removing the arrowhead with little trauma before sewing it up.  The metal discarded in a bucket.  She continued methodically when the horn blew signalling relents return.  

"Herbs," chirped Rosalie, as Rylen hefted an elf over his shoulder.  

"And one elf healer."

"I didn't say kidnap him." She laughed as Solas dusted himself down.

"He wouldn't believe us so we acted on the spot."

"Apologies Solas, they are right."

"I can see." The ever stoic elf remaining emotionless.  "I will begin."

 

Cullen had to suppress a growl as the bald elf touched her skin where it had be cut and split mending it back together as she explained the herbs to the clan asking them to gather more, and get food.  Ymir would need tender food like the fish.  Most of the clan set to their tasks as Solas finished, excusing himself.

"He was cheery." Muttered Cullen.

"He is prideful.  Acts like my hahren believing his knowledge makes him superior and those who want to learn feel useless.  Besides he thinks me a child yet flirts like a sinner." She laughed dryly.  

"You don't return his affections?"

"No.  I prefer a union on equal ground.  Not from status but from a mutual respect and understanding.  Besides lip scars are very distracting." Her smile wicked as her flirt tugged at his loins.  "Simply sinful." She licked her lips as she removed another arrow, Ymir stirring below her.  "There, there da'len" she comforted.  Pulling herbs into a bowl and grinding with milk she made a think paste feeding it to him again, the bear relaxing.  "The herbs numb him.  The next will be difficult. They are deeper."  Cullen saw that it was delivered as she made a paste rubbing it over the sewn wounds to prevent infection.  The sun was already high when Cullen stepped from the tent.  Liawen had worked relentlessly to keep Ymir alive, his condition stable with most of the projectiles removed. 

 

Shell-shocked and numb, Liawen munched aimlessly on bread from Mia as she stared blankly into space, her once clean linens stained and smeared with muck and blood.  Her braid loosened, she looked exhausted.  Once she had eaten she grabbed some of the fish and some buckets.  Into one she squeezed the roe from any fertile females, the nutrient rich eggs would be needed later to boost his strength, in the other she filleted the salmon taking just the extender flesh keeping the rest aside for later.  

 

With a clean blade she minced the raw flesh till it was more like a paste before adding herbs including a strange one she had called andraste's grace.  With a dab of honey her paste was ready and she cradled Ymir, while feeding him each time her arm pushed into his maw to the elbow yet she showed no signs of fear.

"We need to keep him fed.  I'm going to alternate handful of food and herbs with removing an arrowhead until I finish getting things out of him." He noticed her words were slightly more slurred, no doubt from fatigue.  She set to work with the strict focus and determination.  After a time, began to him and sing to Ymir, and in a way it kept them focused until the last arrow was withdrawn.  “Such a strong bear you are Ymir.” She complemented.

“Will he make it?” He asked, his voice raspy from.remaining silent for so long as she rubbed ointment on the bears wounds.

“We keep feeding him the medicated good till it's gone.  Then the roe.  After that it's in the hands of fate of whomever your people believe in.”

“Thank you.  I seem to be saying it alot of late, but it is meant with great respect”

“S’alright“ She chuckled wiping her nose on her sleeve, “it's nice being thanked for once.”

“Surely your people are strong with your leadership.”

“Yes...well...if I was their leader.”

“I'm confused.”

“Well it's a long story.”

“We have time.”

“About 6 months ago, my clan, the Lavellans, sent me to Haven to spy on the Shemlen…”

“Shemlen?”

“Sorry...humans.  They sent me to spy on the humans because of this war between Mages and Templars.  One being the oppressed and the other the oppressor.  Yet the lines are not as clear cut as that.”

“But why did it matter to your clan.”

“My people are persecuted, Cullen.  In their cities they have separate towns full of what they call city elves. Segregated and abused, given lesser jobs and filled with fear for the day an errant lord or human comes knocking looking for some fun.  Then there are the Dalish, my people.  We live isolated in the forests.  Many stay deep to avoid Shemlen altogether, my clan trade with a town called Wycombe.  It is a tenuous connection at best.  But yearly we hear of whole clans wiped out for sport or some slight.  Women are attacked and left for dead.  We all know one thing.  Whatever the humans will affect us.  If we could guage the way the debate was falling then we could prepare.”. She paused feeding Ymir some more.

“It sounds despicable.  We hear little of lowlander life.”

“Anyway, while investigating I heard someone call for help.  Without thinking I went to help and then boom!  A blinding green light and I fell out of the fade.  Through one of those portals.  The Inquisition caught me and treated me like I was the one who tore the sky open.  I'm an archer for fucks sake, not a mage.  So they took me to the rift and I could close it but it drained me.  When I woke up, the people were calling me the Herald of their God and their Leader, made me one of them.”

“You seem unhappy.”

“It is not by choice I am here.” She admitted grimly.  “The Inquisitor, as he has taken to calling himself, is a cruel and greedy man.  He used my clan as leverage for my co-operation.  If I don't do as he asks he will kill them all.”

“But why?”

“The people view me as a herald of their God.  Someone called Andraste.  Not my gods anyway.  But because they love me, he wants that influence, so I am trapped.  That an I have the only tool to close the tears.” She smiled showing him her palm.

“Fuck.”

“My sentiments exactly.” She chuckled.  “I am making the best of it.  I have a small unit, one of whom you kidnapped, who travel doing work for the greater good.  I had reports Avvar were moving but I didn't realise the rifts had run so deep.”

“We were unlucky.”

“That's the last of the food.” She stated, “now we wait.” She sighed stretching.  “My advice.  Keep your men armed and guarding at all times.  Protect your own and don't promise anything to that man.  He will twist it to take everything.  Meet him with witnesses.”

“Aye, Lass.” He replied.  “You need to rest.”

“I’ll be fine.” She smiled weakly trying to stand but instead she stumbled.

“Bed lass.” He growled dragging her to his pallet and dropping her onto the covers.  “Sleep.”

“So demanding.” She tsked.  “Maybe just a little.”

Her gentle snores filled the hut within minutes.

“Lady protect her.” He prayed.  “Protect Ymir and my people and guide us through this time.”


End file.
